A little holiday re-post to bring on the holiday high.
Last night, over a pan of manicotti, I was asked what it was about x-mas music that I loved so much. Specifically my Grinch like husband inquired, “How do you stomach this vulgar chanting? I mean, if it weren’t themed for Christmas would you listen to this?” It’s all about the nostalgia. I grew up listening to Christmas songs as we trimmed the tree, baked cookies, and cleaned the house for company.
My father had us watch March of The Wooden Soldiers, despite our being resistant at first because it was a black and white movie. My sister and I grew to love it and mimicked the faces the skinny one made. We couldn’t remember which was Laurel and which was Hardy, though it seemed logical that the fat one would be Hardy.
My mother explained to us the meaning of the Little Drummer Boy song, how the best gift wasn’t the most costly. It was the one from the heart, and she warmed ours in her telling of it. Christmas music is warm; it’s why I listen to it year-round, especially Baby It’s Cold Outside and Santa Baby. It’s the spice of the season, all mulled and delicious, reminding me of feety pajamas, sitting with my sister, atop our staircase, looking down at the gifts beneath our tree, left for us by Santa.
“Yeah,” Phil said as he ate from my plate, “see, I didn’t have that growing up.” And I realized how lucky I was to have a mother so crafty and spirited, one who taught us to harmonize and sing and cook and love everything around us.
“Listen you Grinch, we need to make our own traditions now. Why don’t we go home and watch It’s A Wonderful Life?”
“It’s not the holiday yet.” It’s nearly Hannukah, hello. But there aren’t any feel good Hannukah movies… yet. Maybe Adam Sandler will step it up with something other than a cartoon.
“Well I’m making cookies and singing songs with our beans just like my mother did, but we need to come up with something that’s just ours.” I wonder what it will be.